Eleanor watched as the Flesh and Bone Man moved from rock to rock like a giant demented bee. It was pretending to ignore her, she guessed it was trying to be nonchalant, but she knew there was no way in hell it hadn’t spotted her broken body amongst the rocks. It was simply being coy and Eleanor was content to let it.
Eventually the giant marble skinned creature drifted over to her and stopped suddenly, as if it were noticing her for the first time. The two floating dots it pretended were its eyes focused on her and a tiny black mouth appeared below them. The mouth did not open when it spoke, rather it flickered in and out like a bubble rapidly expanding and deflating.
“Oh hello there little one,” it said jovially. “You appear injured.”
“Well spotted,” Eleanor said while gasping in pain. The Flesh and Bone Man’s eyes slid slowly down its body as it examined her blood soaked legs. She wondered if it could smell the blood, perhaps even taste it despite being a good five meters away. It would have almost been a waste if it couldn’t.
“It’s so hard to tell with your kind,” it said. “You break so quickly and put yourselves back together so slowly. It makes no sense. Surely you want to do things the right way round.”
“It’s not like I have a choice.”
“No. I suppose not. Sometimes I feel sorry for your kind. Trapped here in this world, it must all be so alien for you.” As if the landscape around her was agreeing with the creature it began to change. She noticed the colour changing first. She’d been trying to hold onto her fear as tightly as possible and that had given a grey-blue tint to the hills around her. The Flesh and Bone Man’s sunny disposition had changed that. The blues had given away to reds as her anger and frustration grew. The hills that formed both sides of the valley she was in grew into mountain ranges, and the rocks of the outcropping became thinner and taller, as if the world was deliberately trying to make them look like teeth.
Only the Flesh and Bone Man did not change colour. There was no light source to illuminate it, it was just a ceramic white, unmarred by shadow or scratch that would add detail
She’d cycled through as many different emotions as she could before the creature had found her, and no one really knew if the Flesh and Bone Men were as colour blind as they claimed to be, but she didn’t want to take any chances.
“Do you feel sorry enough to do something useful or are you just going to float all day?”
Two small dark holes appeared on the sides of the creature and for a moment Eleanor mistook them for extra ‘eyes’. Then out of each hole a thick black tendril appeared. Perfectly uniform in its thickness and colour, as if it had been made by a machine rather than something living. The two tendrils burst forward then curved towards each other. A second before they met each end split off into five perfectly identical fingers. The fingers laced themselves together and the front of the Flesh and Bone man dipped briefly - she guessed it was as close as it could get to a bow.
“I'm afraid I am not sure.” It said solemnly. “It's a difficult question, and potentially dangerous. I must be cautious.”
“What? I'm just asking for help, not a miracle,” she grimaced again and filled her voice with as much pain as possible. It could have been her imagination, but the rocks around her did take on a slightly yellow hue. “I would appreciate it if you could hurry.”
“Why? Do you not know you cannot die here?” Then its eyes grew to twice their size, two giant plates of solid black that only now did Eleanor see were floating at least six inches away from the creature's body. “Or are you an agnostic?”
“A what?”
“Someone who does not believe this place is hell.”
Eleanor stared at the creature, her mental gears had shuddered to a halt and it took a while for them to start moving again. She'd never heard of anyone who did not think they were in hell. Everything here, from the landscape, to the inhabitants, to the way that no person could ever die, no matter what happened to their body, proved that they were in hell. Eleanor could remember the old world well. She had happy memories of growing up in a town by the beach along with her brother and sister. In comparison the new world was so hostile it was absurd to think of it as anything but hell.
Eleanor had always seen curiosity as a deep purple, others saw things differently of course, but now it flooded her view like spilled paint. The rock that she had been leaning against, that had been three times her height, shrank down until its pinnacle pressed into the base of her skull.
“Who the-” she began before realising that the Flesh and Bone man had misinterpreted her. She was not looking for a philosophical discussion on the nature of hell. “No I won't die, but sooner or later something bigger and scarier than you is going to turn up and I don't want to be here when it does.”
“True, true.” The Flesh and Bone man whistled, or maybe it was a sigh, and lowered its arms. That is to say that the apertures from where the arms sprung from slid down its body until they almost met in the middle. The hands unlaced themselves and the arms hung down like nooses. “What I wouldn't give to be powerful enough to ignore time. Or to bend it to my will, but such power is something that cannot be traded for.”
“You and me both.” Elanor said and gave the creature a weak grin. “Now, about that help.”
“Ah,” the creature raised one hand, “I still do not know if I should. You are lying here in a pool of blood, and then I come along and find you, such good fortune is rare. I am suspicious. You are armed aren't you?”
Eleanor raised her pistol in one hand and pointed it away from the Flesh and Bone Man. It still flinched when she pulled the trigger. The pistol clicked as the hammer fell on the empty chamber. She pulled the trigger four or five times more for good measure then threw the weapon away. She was painfully aware how valuable the pistol was, but Flesh and Bone men were notoriously skittish, anything she could do to appear less threatening was worth it. “There, happy now?”
“What is your name? Where are you from?”
“Eleanor. I’m from Veda Suvar.” Eleanor had chosen that place for the very good reason that it was impossible for it to be true. Veda Suvar was a myth, if one were being generous, or a lie if one was being realistic. Part oasis, part refuge, it was the one place in the whole of existence that still resembled the old world. It didn’t exist of course, but that meant that Eleanor could not be caught out in a lie. She could stick to the myth, fill in the details with whatever she wanted, and no one could contradict her.
“Ah, Veda Suvar, I have heard of that place. You must be truly desperate to have fallen so far from such a heaven.” The creature shook from side to side a little. “Were you attacked? Is that where all your bullets went?”
“Yes.” She said with a nod. “Me and my brother had heard of a safe place for humans somewhere round here but we were ambushed by a Knightmare before we could find it. I’m not sure my bullets drove it off, maybe it was happy just taking my brother and saw no reason to stick around. Who knows why they do anything.”
“True, true.” It said again. “They are such hateful creatures. No one understands them, or if they do, no one has told me about it. This sanctuary you were trying to reach, it wasn't called New Bayruth was it?”
“No, why?” She said, hoping that the creature would misinterpreted the hesitancy in her voice. She'd never heard the name in her life. Could it be that there actually were other human survivors nearby?
“It's quite close by. It used to be one of the Celebration’s great cities, but now it's little more than a border town. It's well fortified, as much as that would do any good at least. Why weren’t you traveling with more people? I thought numbers were the only advantage your kind could rely on here.”
“We had to leave our group on short notice. With any luck they won’t even realise we’re gone yet.” Eleanor eyed the Flesh and Bone Man, trying to search its smooth white face for any sign that it saw through the lie. There was nothing. It reminded Elanor of a stone she'd once skipped across the sea on an almost forgotten summer's day. She realised she was staring as the two eyes flickered in and out of existence, the Bone Man's version of a surprised blink she guessed.
“Ah, a disagreement, I understand. You are alone out here, without allies, you need my help. Would you like to see my wares?”
“Your wares? No. I just need you to carry me.”
“But I can do so much more.” It said with glee. The creature's hands reached towards its center and Eleanor saw a thin line appear down its body. “Let me show you.”
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Eleanor was about to protest again, but the creature was faster. Like a man opening a coat he split apart his shell, opening up both sides of his body with his hands and displaying his grisserly wares. She had heard the stories of course, but nothing had prepared her for the sight of so many body parts crammed together, blooded and twitching like a fish on a hook. The mass of flesh must have taken up every square inch of the Flesh and Bone Man’s form.
She turned away from the sight and the Flesh and Bone man lowered his shell. “I could give you new legs, better legs, as many as you’d like.”
“I’d rather keep the ones I’ve got. They’ll heal. I just want you to get me someplace safe.”
“Hmmmmmm, it’s possible, yes. What do you have to trade for such a service?”
“What do you usually trade for?” It tapped its shell with one hand. “Anything else?”
“Thoughts, dreams, memories. Yes. Good and bad.”
“A good memory?” Eleanor said, raising one eyebrow.
“A good memory, yes? Good memories, happy memories, the best are very valuable.”
“And bad memories?”
“The worse the better, but not as valuable. So many here try to sell their bad memories. So many.” It’s arms waved through the air and pointed to someplace in the distance behind her. “I can go to New Bayruth and find a hundred, a thousand, in a few beats of your heart. Bad memories, too common to be valuable. Much better to give up happy ones, those are few and far between. Happiness is a good commodity. Very, very good.”
“Still seems a lot to ask for just carrying me somewhere.”
“You would still take up space.” Eleanor felt sick at the thought of riding inside the thing. “Still take energy to move you, yes? Yes. Cost of helping you is not high, one good memory. Will not sell for a sad memory. Do you have good memories?”
It was like a wasp, a bloated one with a head made from stone just like the one she'd thrown across the sea. Her brother had been with her that day. He'd seen her throw the stone, but he was too proud to ask her how to make it skip across the water. He'd tried for hours, or perhaps her memory had simply extended it to hours when it had in fact been minutes, before giving up and sulking away.
“I have happy memories.” Eleanor said. “Lots of them, but can’t I just trade twenty bad ones instead?”
It may have been her imagination but she thought she saw the Flesh and Bone Man's eyes narrow. “Do you know what it is you are doing little one?”
“Right now I’m hurt and bleeding. Why are you making this so difficult?”
“Taking many memories will cost you.”
“That makes less sense.”
“Not extra cost on the trade, no, no. Would never do that. Extra cost to your mind. Memories are linked, like the parts of those things where you live.” One of the tendrils drifted over to its face and it scratched the side of its head in a disturbingly human manner. “Houses! That's them. Like bricks in a house, you take some and the wall is weakened. More strain is put on those that remain, soon the house falls and everyone inside dies. They scream until there is no more air and in the darkness all you can hear is laughter.”
Eleanor reached for the reassuring cool metal of her pistol, then remembered she had flung it away. Flesh and Bone Men avoided fighting wherever possible, but that was no reason to relax.
“Forgive me.” The Bone Man continued. “Old memories, sometimes the distinction between myself and the ones I carry becomes thin, sometimes it breaks. No harm meant, no harm carried, no harm done.”
“I thought you said you only carried happy memories?”
“Yes. Special commission. A man from the Kakistocracy wanted to ‘murder’ a family. Wanted to entomb them and experience their terror for revenge. I could have sold such hatred for a fortune. I extracted the memories from them, but the man was caught and arrested. I fled, do not know more. Never returned. Must avoid fighting wherever possible. But other things are more important now. Our deal. Removing many memories, good or bad, will leave you half a person, very dangerous, but I will do it if you insist.”
“Would it be possible to take all the memories of a person, so you’d never have to think of them again?” If the creature's eyes narrowed it had to be her imagination.
“Someone who hurt you? Drove you from your home or…” The eyes seemed to glow for a second, a flash of light that illuminated the empty interior of the creature. Eleanor knew that was impossible, but her eyes didn’t lie. “Ah, you want to forget your brother and what the Knightmare might do to him.”
Eleanor looked away from the creature and down at the red brown dirt at her feet. She could hear her pulse thundering in her ears and could practically taste the mixture of disgust and betrayal on her tongue. She had never been a very good liar. “Yes.”
“How many memories of your brother do you have?”
“A lot. We’ve been together since we woke up in this hell. We never found what happened to our parents, for all we know they could be back in the real world, or I could run into them tomorrow.”
“Ah, I see. And how long, from your point of view, have you been here?” From your point of view. The ultimate proof of hell. A final twist of the knife that should have been enough to turn anyone mad.
“I say twenty years. My brother used to insist it was six, now he thinks it’s five.”
The Flesh and Bone Man sighed again and lowered itself until it was just barely a foot off the ground. Its eyes lowered themselves another inch or two until they were level with hers. “That is far too long. There would be nothing left of you.”
“Fine,” She snapped, “I have plenty of other happy memories.”
“You do?” The creature hovered a few inches closer to her.
“I have-'' The words stuck in her throat and as she wrenched them free the landscape turned to a deep blood red. The rocks towered above her, blocked her in, trapped her alone with the creature. “I had a sister. I lost her about a month after we all arrived in hell. I suppose she’s still out there somewhere. You can take her. Would that be suitable, or would you like me to dredge up another?”
“Yes, very suitable. You are blessed to have many excellent and valuable memories.” It paused as if considering something of great difficulty.” Elanor’s mind worked faster and she felt her muscles tense up. “It really was remarkably good luck that I found you.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” She said and prayed that the Flesh and Bone Man couldn’t read her mind.
“For me.” She didn’t respond, didn’t move a muscle, she just stared at the creature and waited for it to continue. “I truly did feel sorry for you, but you are too great a find for me to let you go unharvested.”
“You don’t have to do this.” She whispered. The creature loomed over her, its empty eyes staring pitilessly down at her.
“But I do. Your kind survives off its numbers, the Knightmares off their hatred. I survive off what I can scavenge and barter with. It is my nature. If I did not I would no longer be me.”
“Sounds like a poor excuse.” She said and raised one clenched fist, partially just to show some defiance. An unarmed human was little threat to a Flesh and Bone Man, but it was the thought that counted. If the creature took the bait she couldn’t tell, the eyes stayed exactly where they had always been.
“You deserve this. You should not have lied to me.”
“Lie?”
“You said you were from Vedar Suvar.” If it was possible to breathe a sigh of relief without actually breathing Eleanor managed such a feat. She did manage to raise one eyebrow questioningly. “You believe that this place is hell. Those from Veda Suvar do not. They have another name for it. They call it the Holotear.”
Eleanor wasn’t sure if she was more shocked by the fact that Veda Suvar actually existed, or by the strange name they used. “I’ll remember that for next time.” She stammered.
“I would like to tell you that this will be easier and less painful if you don’t resist, but that would be a lie.”
Eleanor closed her eyes and focused on her own body. Both her left arm, still raised in defiance, and her right, tucked into the small of her back. She forced herself to take a deep breath, pushed all emotion out of her mind, opened her eyes, and then launched herself to her feet.
If the Flesh and Bone Man gasped at her sudden miraculous recovery Eleanor didn’t hear it. Nor would she have cared. She ducked under the monster as she drew the knife from its sheath in the small of her back. In less than a heartbeat she was scoring the blade down the center of the porcelain flesh, right where it had opened itself earlier. She felt a brief moment of resistance, but it vanished within a moment and the knife pushed through as if there was nothing to stop it.
The monster screamed as she slit it open. It’s voice modulated between a high pitched wail and an anger fuelled roar. Then Elanor was clear of its bulk. She heard the sickening sound of blooded flesh hitting the ground and spun to face the creature.
“Liar!” It screamed at her. It’s two arms twisted towards her even as it’s body closed up the wound she had made in less than a second. It swooped down upon her, arms reaching for her throat, but she was faster. She swung the knife in deep, powerful arcs. It mattered little where she hit it, only that she did so with as much force as possible. Each impact felt like she was striking stone, yet each was completely silent.
She back peddled quickly, trading space whenever the arms threatened her and closing in for the kill whenever they did not. The Flesh and Bone Man was practically spitting at her. It filled the air with curses and yells while she stayed quiet and focused solely on hurting it.
Then, with one final cry of despair and anguish, it turned to flee. The moment of elation that Eleanor felt was cut short as it lashed out with one tendril as it sped away. The blow whipped across her stomach and all the way to her neck. She hit the ground hard, her own scream mingling with the cry of the Flesh and Bone Man as it vanished into the distance.
Eleanor opened one eye and saw the twisted and twitching pile of human flesh that she had rescued. An eye blinked back. She tried to smile, but the pain was too much. She’d won, with a bit of luck the recovery team would reach her soon and then they could begin the process of piecing everyone back together.
Assuming, of course, that nothing else found her first.